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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24929641">*Shoves Content At You* HERE! TAKE IT</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wearysea/pseuds/Wearysea'>Wearysea</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Sanders Sides (Web Series)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Author Is Sleep Deprived, Dark Creativity | Remus "The Duke" Sanders Being an Asshole, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Human Sides (Sanders Sides), M/M, Multi, Other, Panic Attacks, Sympathetic Dark Creativity | Remus "The Duke" Sanders, Sympathetic Morality | Patton Sanders, TikTok, Trash Noodle - Freeform</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-06-26</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-01-21</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 06:09:30</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>8</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>3,611</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24929641</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wearysea/pseuds/Wearysea</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>A bunch of different Sanders Sides themed ficlets to ease me back into writing, enjoy :)</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Dark Creativity | Remus "The Duke" Sanders/Deceit | Janus Sanders, Logic | Logan Sanders/Morality | Patton Sanders</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>21</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>48</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Of TikTok and Cosplay</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Trash Noodle aka Janus/Remus - including Virgil and Roman as guest stars, kind of.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Remus had finally done it.</p><p>He’d convinced Janus to do the one thing he claimed he would never do in a million years. Janus would, hand on heart, rather skin his own mother alive than do this… but Remus was a slippery, conniving son of a bitch, and after over a year of convincing, Janus had finally been talked into it.</p><p>He was going to make a TikTok account.</p><p>He was going to <em>cosplay, </em>where <em>random strangers could see him and judge him- </em>oh heck this was going to be the worst thing ever. No, he wasn’t being dramatic at all. Shut up, Remus, you’ve no room to talk.</p><p>First, what should he call his account… he’s not using his real name on there, clearly, but what should… oh, hmm, the only thing that comes to mind is that meme Remus keeps quoting at him. StuckWithASnakeBoi it is, next he puts his name as Deceit – the code name he preferred to use online, privacy was important to him even if his real face was going to be broadcasted, he just wasn’t comfortable with sharing any other information about himself.</p><p>He texts Remus with his @ and within minutes Remus, Virgil and Roman are following him – ha, Remus must’ve been talking about it… that’s sweet.</p><p>What’s less sweet is when Virgil messages him saying “Whipped”.</p><p>Janus sends a middle finger emoji.</p><p>Virgil sends him a rainbow uno reverse card emoji.</p><p>War of the emojis it is.</p><p>After a few minutes, he gets curious, Janus has never seen any of his friends’ TikTok videos, he knows Virgil does cosplay too-…</p><p>Oh.</p><p>My.</p><p>God.</p><p>When the hell did Virgil get so talented!?! Janus felt like he was about to have a stroke! He had no clue what Virgil used for all those eyes, but they looked amazing, this spider themed OC he’d created seemed to be called Anxiety. Janus loved it nearly as much as he was completely intimidated by it.</p><p>He could never compare; his cosplays would never be as good.</p><p>Janus takes a deep breath, he needed to stop sabotaging himself before he’d even started. He could do this.</p><p>So maybe… it wasn’t that Janus didn’t like the idea of TikTok, maybe Remus saw that from the start and was being a supportive as hell boyfriend, the bastard, the swine.</p><p>Fuck, Janus loved him.</p><p>He’d tell Remus that, one of these days.</p><p>Roman seemed to favour princes, what a surprise, although he was always trying out new looks for his costumes. Scrolling down a little, he realised he’d been duetting Virgil – they seemed to be doing mini roll plays where Virgil’s Anxiety was a demon Roman was fighting? It looked like they’d teamed up in some of them.</p><p>That looked like fun, Janus wondered if Deceit could join in… Remus was part of it too, he’d already seen a lot of Remus’ solo cosplays – often full to the brim with fake gore, Cthulhu imagery being the cherry on top – but in this series he seemed to be the Duke to Roman’s prince, the dark side to the light, many of the videos they did together were quite poetic.</p><p>The Duke also had a lot of octopus themes, but it was Remus, what could you do.</p><p>Where the hell did he get a Morningstar was Janus’ question, that could be answered later though. For now, he had to decide what he wanted to do with his account.</p><p>Remus sends him a message, “Hi, Hissy! Proud of you!” along with a bunch of heart emojis.</p><p>Maybe this was going to be the best thing.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Hi there, for y'all who follow my Ao3 in general and haven't seen the updates on my Tumblr (*cough* @Wearyofthesea *Cough*) - I have been the Big Mentally Ill, to be more precise, my meds stopped working - just a real awful time all round - so basically the only thing I've been doing for the past month or 2 is Flight Rising and trying to get dressed and feed myself every day. </p><p>But now I've got meds that actually work and I feel better than I have in over a decade, so I've decided to start writing again, but I'm taking a break from most of my fics bc they're longer and require more thought than what I have the energy for at the moment so I'm gonna just be doing some short Sanders Sides stuff for a while.<br/>Kinda like the Fluffuary thing I did, but without any prompts/set days to do them </p><p>(that being said if y'all wanna send me a suggestion for them either on here or on Tumblr I am all ears - how long they're gonna be will depend entirely on how I feel on the day etc, etc)</p><p>The ideas I have for this right now, other than the one you just read, is one about BLM protests in the UK (as that's where the one I went to was) and the mothling au that is very, very dear to my friend groups hearts (I did a little thing for that for the LAMP day in Fluffuary but I need to write MORE lol)</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Remus Aggravates</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Remus being the feral trash man he is, part 1 of 2</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“When you’re dead, and I’m dead, when our flesh has rotted, and our bones have turned to dust, <em>I will still be angry.</em>”</p>
<p>Remus looks back over at the windowsill, at the horribly over watered succulent that he was meant to be taking care of for Janus but clearly didn’t know how to, “Rip.”</p>
<p>If looks could kill Remus would be 6 feet under with a head full of maggots.</p>
<p>“In my defence, I thought you were meant to water plants.”</p>
<p>“You idiot.”</p>
<hr/>
<p><br/>“It’s time for my eyes to shut the fuck up and stop shouting pictures at my brain.”</p>
<p>“Remus! Language!”</p>
<p>“Mandarin.”</p>
<p>Patton lets out a little snort and says, “okay, the pun saved you.” Remus gives him a short grin in response and goes back to playing on his DS. He doesn’t really pay attention to Patton as he gets up and heads to the kitchen. He does, however, pay attention to the furious screech of, “<em>Who ate all my cookies!”</em></p>
<p>Remus freezes, then practically teleports up the stairs, because a hangry Patton is not a foe he can best.</p>
<hr/>
<p><br/>Virgil’s head slowly, very slowly, turns to face Remus. The rest of his body does not move an inch. Remus does not think this is as funny as he thought it would be.</p>
<p><em>‘Oh, fuck,’ </em>is the only thing that runs through Remus’ head as he’s being chased across the garden in the dark by a demonically screeching, chilli covered Virgil, <em>‘he’s really going to be the man behind the slaughter.’ </em></p>
<hr/>
<p><br/>It’s only when a giggling Patton suggests he take a look in the bathroom mirror, does Roman realise that he’s going to commit fratricide. On his face, there is green sharpie, in a moustache, in glasses, in ‘Remus was here’ on his cheek.</p>
<p>He may also shove Logan in the grave too, as he sat across from him during breakfast, staring dead at him, and didn’t say a word about it.</p>
<p>But first, he’s coming for Remus’ knees.</p>
<hr/>
<p>Remus doesn’t even remember doing it, the act must’ve been quite a while ago, but it was obviously him. Who else would draw a green octopus inside one of Logan’s books?</p>
<p>Hence why Logan was stood over him in the corridor, having knocked Remus flat on his ass in one fell swoop, looking every bit like a serial killer who was about to dismember him and throw him in a river.</p>
<p>Remus tries to laugh it off, and goes in for a teasing, “man, I’m feeling really melon country about it-.”</p>
<p>Which was a mistake, because now Logan looks like he’s going to go absolutely feral. Shit.</p>
<p>
  <strong>
    <em>“It’s melancholy.” </em>
  </strong>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Fuck mental illness</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Morning, People</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Logan/Patton - Based on how I feel in the mornings.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The alarm clock needs adjusting, Patton notes blankly, it’s more static that radio. The noise grates on his ears as if they were cheese. It’s enough to get his eyes cracking open, along with his back as he sits up… The mattress needs replacing too now that he thinks about it.</p>
<p>His back, neck and shoulders continue to pop as he stretches. Oh, yeah, he DEFINITELY needs a new mattress.</p>
<p>Patton’s blearily makes his way across the room, bare feet on plush carpet, and turns off the alarm. His head pounds a little and he stares at a random spot on the wall as he sways slightly from side to side. What he wants more than anything is to collapse back into bed and not move for the rest of the day. But that’s “not healthy” says Logan… and his therapist.</p>
<p>He pulls out the big guns, the one thing that truly motivates him in the mornings. If anyone asked, he’d say it was the chocolate chai tea that he uses to get himself down stairs, and sure, it certainly help him feel a little less like a dusty husk of a Patton, but really… it was getting to see Logan fumbling downstairs with sleep in his eyes and hair stuck up like an anime character.</p>
<p>Logan would say he wasn’t a morning person… Patton would say he was beautiful.</p>
<p>Patton would hate waking up otherwise, but as it stands, mug in hand, the taste of sugar and chocolate on his tongue and a fond tremble in his chest as he watches Logan shovel cereal into his mouth for what has to be the millionth time, this is his favourite time of day.</p>
<p> </p>
<hr/>
<p> </p>
<p>Fuck, Logan hates getting up. He’s fully aware that sleeping in isn’t good for him, and he tries his hardest to get his sleep schedule to let him wake up at the end of a sleep cycle, but he’s had no luck yet.</p>
<p>So, this morning, like every morning before, he feels like the Sahara Desert… and don’t get him started about how dumb that name is… even if it’s accurate to how crappy his thought process is. Roman still hasn’t let him live down, “Get the cupboard from the cereal.”</p>
<p>Logan wakes up to the same song he has set on his ringtone that he kind of hates now but doesn’t want to change because then he’ll just ruin another song for himself.</p>
<p>He swears, hand on heart and with multiple expletives, that there’s only 3 good things about mornings: Coffee, Patton, and cereal, in that order. He loves Patton to death and back, but <em>coffee. </em></p>
<p>… The best thing about the coffee though, is that he gets to be awake enough for his brain to comprehend Patton’s… Patton-ness.</p>
<p>The quiet “chocolate tea” song that he thinks Logan is too out of it to hear, the way his glasses fog up as he smells it, the way Logan just knows Patton’s swinging his legs under the table.</p>
<p>As much as Logan hates mornings, Patton and coffee are pretty great, he thinks while he shovels cereal into his mouth like a cereal gremlin.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Two-Sided Coin</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Patton and Virgil have a little dialogue about understanding each other.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I see so much of myself in you.” </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Virgil pauses, confusion blindsiding his thoughts, and ends up turning around again to face Patton, “... What are you talking about?” </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Learning how to communicate anything negative has been a long process for me but... it’s always been there, inside.” </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I don’t-“ </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Patton takes a shake-y breath, Virgil stops and lets him continue. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I cling on to things so tightly, to cope, to learn, to change what I am at my core. But worry is the foundation of what I am, I can only tint the edges, and I recognise that so clearly in you.” </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“So I clung to you, thinking you needed it because... because it’s what I needed... what I still crave. Positive attention, someone to see the good parts and not... the scary parts.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“But I’m self-aware enough now that I need to understand that you’re not me, that you can present yourself however you want all on your own-“</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“-We’re exactly the same.” Patton’s pretty sure that Virgil has just come to the exact opposite conclusion that he should’ve come to. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He realised that he must be giving Virgil a look because he says: “Hear me out, we’re on opposite ends of a spectrum, but we’re still ON that spectrum.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Patton... thinks he understands what Virgil’s getting at. “Like, we’re coming at the same problem from different angles?”</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Yes! I’m branching outward, and you’re branching inward, both to explore and express our identity!” </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Oh. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">OH. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“... Being honest is hard.” </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I know, Pat, I know. We’re gonna mess up with each other, but we’ll meet in the middle eventually.” </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Virgil holds out his hand and Patton doesn’t hesitate to take it. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I hope it’s sooner than later.” </span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Ugh, Emotions</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>When you deny you even have feelings, it’s only natural you won’t know how to process them.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Think.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">
    <em>I can’t.</em>
  </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Think!”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">My mind... my section of the mind... my <em>STUPID HEAD WHY WON’T IT WORK.</em></span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Think! THINK! THINK!” Logan smacks the sides of his head over and over and over as he screams, it doesn’t help. His hands and his head are aching but he doesn’t stop, far too worked up to calm down now.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Logan’s not sure how he can have the sensation of a racing mind without really being able to think clearly, but that’s what’s happening, and </span>
  <span class="s2">
    <em>it’s just too much, too much, make it stop please please.</em>
  </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Salvation comes in the form of hands, not his, wrapping around his wrists, careful not to harm him but firm in their efforts to stop Logan from harming himself. His glasses aren’t on his face anymore, Logan can’t recall them falling off... not that they’d make a difference to his vision anyway, his face caked with snot and tears block everything out.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He has no clue who’s with him, he’s too overstimulated to process sound, but he does process the stinging embarrassment in his gut at having been seen like this...</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">
    <em>Pathetic.</em>
  </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Logan tries to hit himself again, he can’t, frustrated tears continue to well up in his eyes.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">
    <em>Pathetic!</em>
  </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">His chest heaves with sobs, everything aches as he tries to pull his knees up to his chest, God, he feels so </span>
  <span class="s3">
    <em>p a t h e t i c.</em>
  </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">
    <b>“LOGAN, YOU ARE NOT PATHETIC!”</b>
  </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Of course, it’s Patton.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“You’re wonderful and kind and smart and-and you shouldn’t be hurting yourself even if you are hurting!”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Logan doesn’t realise he’s going to let out a wobbly “I’m sorry,” until after he’s already done it. Suddenly the hands aren’t holding onto his wrists anymore, arms are sliding around his sides into a tight hug. He can’t hug back very solidly but he tries.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">A mantra of “it’s okay” floods his ears as Logan continues to cry into Patton’s shoulder. The hands are rubbing circles into his back... then squares, triangles, spheres and increasingly more complicated shapes. It works like a charm, focussing his mind, as Logan’s continuously jolting body slows and calms, his scrunched eyelids relax.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Sleep isn’t far behind, once Patton is certain Logan is unconscious he steadily carries him upstairs. It’s better to wake up in bed than on a couch.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">All nice and tucked in, Patton pulls out a pack of tissues and starts to clean up both of their faces. He’s a sympathy crier okay? Give him a break.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">... Give him a cookie.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Patton crawls on top of the sheets next to him, and tries to go to sleep too.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He knows it’s not nice waking up alone and vulnerable. </span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Brain said do the write-y write</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. A River in Egypt</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Logan has a panic attack 2: Electric Boogaloo</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p>
<p>It isn’t until Virgil’s hands come down on his shoulders that he realises he’s crying.</p>
<p>
  <em>‘Logan, Logan, copy my breathing – TURN THE TV OFF – It’s okay, you’re alright, you’re safe – ROMAN!’ </em>
</p>
<p>It isn’t until Patton’s hands rub circles into his back that he realises he’s having a panic attack.</p>
<p>Well shit. How’s he going to explain this away?</p>
<p>
  <em>“I’m so sorry, Logan, I didn’t know anything like that was in this.”</em>
</p>
<p>It isn’t until Roman’s arm snakes around his shoulders and gives him a squeeze that he realises he’s no where near as unaffected by his childhood experiences as he’d convinced himself he was.</p>
<p>
  <em>“You want to talk about it, Specs?”</em>
</p>
<p>In hindsight, he should’ve realised he was in denial, but he supposed that refusing to admit he was drowning was the only thing that was keeping his head above water, so to speak.</p>
<p>
  <em>“… No… Maybe.” </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>“Take as long as you need.”</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>"Do you want a tissue?" </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>"I'm getting you a glass of water, your bound to get a dehydration headache."</em>
</p>
<p>It isn't until Logan calms down that he realises that everything his boyfriends say sounds like 'I love you.'</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Idk why Logan having a break down fascinates me so much, but at least I give him emotional support when he does.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Scribbles</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Logan finds himself smitten.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Roman talked about his brother often, mostly negatively, in that special way siblings do. Logan knows damn well that if anyone else ever insulted Remus, regardless of what it was about, they’d metaphorically get their head bitten off.</p><p>One of the first things, if not the first thing, Roman told him, Patton and Virgil about his brother was about how chaotic he was, how impulsive, how unstable, how thoughtless. They were told hundreds of stories of broken things and disgusting things, of oblivious remarks and endless conversations, of aggravation and rebuttals.</p><p>Logan had them all on a mental list, which he immediately crumpled up and threw away the moment he actually met him. He was so opposite to how Roman described if you actually put thought into how Remus was, if you took any interest beyond the surface level.</p><p>Logan absolutely did.</p><p>They met for the first time at a Halloween party, he forgets whose, but Roman was complaining about having to be anywhere near Remus in an environment where alcohol was present, so he knew well in advance. Somehow, he was still utterly blindsided by him.</p><p>As usual, Logan felt like there was a messy scribble in his head from the moment he set of to whoever’s home, he didn’t do well in social situations, he didn’t do well with anything that involved any kind of interaction with other people. He needed note cards to figure out how to relate to others.</p><p>Logan had always been very messy inside, he just didn’t emote, which had others getting the rather silly impression that he was calm. Ha.</p><p>But Remus…</p><p>Remus knew exactly what he wanted to say and how he wanted to say it and would not be corrected or swayed on the phrasing or subject matter.</p><p>Remus was and is solid and steady… he’s exactly what Logan needs and that terrifies him.</p><p>He’d never had a crush before.</p>
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<a name="section0008"><h2>8. Ugh, feelings</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Logan has a rough night, but at least he’s not alone.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Think.”</p>
<p>
  <em> I can’t. </em>
</p>
<p>“Think!”</p>
<p>
  <em>My mind... my section of the mind... my STUPID HEAD WHY WON’T IT WORK.</em>
</p>
<p>“Think! THINK! THINK!”</p>
<p>Logan smacks the sides of his head over and over and over as he screams, it doesn’t help. His hands and his head are aching but he doesn’t stop, far too worked up to calm down now.</p>
<p>Logan’s not sure how he can have the sensation of a racing mind without really being able to think clearly, but that’s what’s happening, and it’s just too much, too much, make it stop please please.</p>
<p>Salvation comes in the form of hands, not his, wrapping around his wrists, careful not to harm him but firm in their efforts to stop Logan from harming himself. His glasses aren’t on his face anymore, Logan can’t recall them falling off... not that they’d make a difference to his vision anyway, his face caked with snot and tears block everything out.</p>
<p>He has no clue who’s with him, he’s too overstimulated to process sound, but he does process the stinging embarrassment in his gut at having been seen like this... <em>Pathetic. </em></p>
<p>Logan tries to hit himself again, he can’t, frustrated tears continue to well up in his eyes.</p>
<p>
  <em>Pathetic!</em>
</p>
<p>His chest heaves with sobs, everything aches as he tries to pull his knees up to his chest, God, he feels so <em>p a t h e t i c.</em></p>
<p>“LOGAN, YOU ARE NOT PATHETIC!”</p>
<p>Of course, it’s Patton.</p>
<p>“You’re wonderful and kind and smart and-and you shouldn’t be hurting yourself even if you are hurting!”</p>
<p>Logan doesn’t realise he’s going to let out a wobbly, “I’m sorry,” until after he’s already done it.</p>
<p>Suddenly the hands aren’t holding onto his wrists anymore, arms are sliding around his sides into a tight hug. He can’t hug back very solidly but he tries. A mantra of “it’s okay” floods his ears as Logan continues to cry into Patton’s shoulder.</p>
<p>The hands are rubbing circles into his back... then squares, triangles, spheres and increasingly more complicated shapes. It works like a charm, focussing his mind, as Logan’s continuously jolting body slows and calms, his scrunched eyelids relax. Sleep isn’t far behind, once Patton is certain Logan is unconscious he steadily carries him upstairs. It’s better to wake up in bed than on a couch. All nice and tucked in, Patton pulls out a pack of tissues and starts to clean up both of their faces. He’s a sympathy crier okay? Give him a break.</p>
<p>... Give him a cookie. Patton crawls on top of the sheets next to him, and tries to go to sleep too. He knows it’s not nice waking up alone and vulnerable.</p>
<p>___________</p>
<p>Logan feels washed out, like someone stuck him to a washing board and <em>scrubbed. </em></p>
<p>Opening his eyes is a fruitless venture, feeling much too exhausted to move his hands to his face and much too week to part his eyelids by force, something dry caking his lashes together that’s sure to leave him uncomfortable for hours.</p>
<p>Logan’s nose has blocked itself and his mouth has become a desert during the night, need for air prioritised over the need for moisture. He feels like shit, but at least he didn’t suffocate in his sleep, he supposed.</p>
<p>A noise, a movement, an expression must have been made because Patton quietly says, “Do you think you can sit up, Logan? I’ve got some water-“ that’s more than enough to get him heaving himself up on wobbly arms, in desperate need of the oasis Patton provides - it’s another few minutes of chugging to get his mouth feeling some semblance of normal and blowing his nose to feel less like he belongs in the grave for him to notice Patton is not his only guest.</p>
<p>A snort comes at the noises he makes into the tissue and despite no real indicators in the short sound, Logan knows in his bones that it’s Virgil sitting on the edge of his bed.</p>
<p>Vision blurry, but eyes open, he can vaguely make out Patton’s light blue, and when he turns, small swatches of purple confirm his hypothesis. “Heard you had a rough night, feeling any better?”</p>
<p>Everything was so intense yesterday, but now... “I feel numb.”</p>
<p>“... Oh. That’s not good.” </p>
<p>Silence settles for a moment before Logan adds, “I can’t tell if it’s because I’m feeling too much or not enough....”</p>
<p>“Yeah, I get that a lot too.”</p>
<p>Logan at least attempts a smile in Virgil’s direction, it’s a delicate, uneasy thing that has Patton’s arms wrapping around his shoulders and Virgil inching closer by the second.</p>
<p>“S’gonna be okay, Specs, we’re here - Roman’s making pizza bagels, if you’re hungry.” </p>
<p>Logan’s laugh comes out way sadder than he means it to be, but his smile is a little stronger.</p>
<p>Pizza bagels sound fantastic.</p>
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